


Go On the Useless Presents

by ignipes



Category: Torchwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-07
Updated: 2007-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-03 01:56:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignipes/pseuds/ignipes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Torchwood staff Christmas party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go On the Useless Presents

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [В продолжение бесполезных подарков (Go On the Useless Presents)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3112112) by [Sevima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevima/pseuds/Sevima)



"It reminds me of a nightclub I used to go to," Jack says. "Strong drinks, terrible music, and glitter _everywhere_." Another angry century, another crowded world, gorgeous servers who tended toward tentacles rather than arms, but those details he keeps to himself. "Remind me to never again let Gwen and Tosh do the holiday decorating after they've shared half a dozen martinis. New company policy. No more blue glitter, gold glitter, red glitter..."

"Pudding with glitter?" Ianto is on his hands and knees, scrubbing vigorously at a mysterious substance that seems to be melded to the floor. His jacket is off and his tie is tossed over his shoulder, and from the looks of it he has no intention of relinquishing his rag and solvent any time soon.

"Is that was that is?" Jack asks. "Has it already been eaten?"

Ianto glances over his shoulder balefully. "No, sir. Would you like to taste it?"

Jack laughs and slides down on the sofa, stretching his legs comfortably before him. "Thanks, but I'll pass. You don't have to do that now, you know."

"It will only be worse in the morning," Ianto says in the tone of one explaining the most basic principles of cleanliness to a very slow child. He crawls to the side a few inches, reaching for what looks like a Christmas bow stuck to half of a moldy orange, and accidentally kicks Jack's feet. "I have to -- oh, sorry," he says quickly, looking over his shoulder again. "I didn't see you."

"Don't be," Jack replies with a wave of his hand. "I can see you just fine -- and, I have to admit, I'm rather enjoying the view."

Ianto pauses and turns his head, not quite far enough too look at Jack, but Jack can see the faintest glimmer of a smile. When Ianto goes back to his scrubbing, his tie slips over his shoulder and drags on the floor, but he doesn't seem to notice.

Jack's smile widens. "It's not often I get to see you in this position. You're always so insistent about taking charge...."

Sitting back on his heels, Ianto gives Jack an amused look. "That's rich, coming from a man who demands to be called 'Captain.'"

Jack opens his mouth to respond, changes his mind, and stands up abruptly. "Come on," he says, holding a hand down to Ianto. "Leave that for the morning. Let's get out of here."

Ianto raises his eyebrows in surprise. "And go where?"

"Anywhere. Out. Wander the streets to heckle carolers. Go to the cinema and catch a movie about people fighting aliens. Have a drink at the pub." Jack shrugs and looks around, making a face at the glittery mess. "Anything, as long as it's not here. There's nothing more depressing than the leftovers of a holiday party."

After several quiet seconds, as Jack is holding his hand out to Ianto and Ianto is staring at him like he's grown a second head, Jack thinks: this is it, this is the misstep he's going to regret. This is all wrong: too much black-and-white Hollywood movie, two lost souls and night on the town and looking for connection and all that rubbish; not enough convenient office fuck that never leaves the office, something you want and something I've got and there's no reason to talk about it.

"Or not," Jack says, withdrawing his hand and quickly deciding on the most graceful way to retract an unwanted invitation. "It's not--"

Ianto reaches up and takes his hand, and he smiles slightly when Jack pulls him to his feet. "You don't normally drink," he says.

"No," Jack agrees, "but you do. Very enthusiastically, as I recall."

"Jack," Ianto begins, smoothing his shirt and straightening his tie in a manner that somehow manages to make him look even more fetchingly mussed. "Are you hoping to use alcohol to take advantage of one of your employees?"

"What if I am?" Jack grins and tugs Ianto toward the steps, then stops and rolls his eyes when Ianto twists his hand free and darts into the office for his jacket and Jack's coat. "Will my wicked plan work?"

"Your plan is hopelessly inappropriate and pathetically transparent," Ianto says, "but not entirely implausible."

Laughing, Jack slips on his coat and turns up the collar. "Exactly what I love to hear. Let's go."


End file.
